Page 172 - Anonymous

The woman leaves her grocery

basket in the middle of one of the aisles

and makes a beeline for the little girl. My

eye twitches. I hate careless people.

Someone could trip on that basket, and

then we'll have a lawsuit on our hands.

Willow ducks under my barrier, and

I scoop her up before she makes a dash

for the door. The little girl smells of

vanilla cake, and it transports me back to

my childhood. It's not a warm fuzzy